Mr Cellophane
by Lady Gwenevere Smith
Summary: You can look right through him, and walk right by him, and never even notice Clark Kent exists.


**Mr. Cellophane**

_**Cellophane  
Mister Cellophane  
Shoulda been my name  
Mister Cellophane  
'Cause you can look right through me  
Walk right by me  
And never know I'm there...  
I tell ya  
Cellophane  
Mister Cellophane  
Shoulda been my name  
Mister Cellophane  
'Cause you can look right through me  
Walk right by me  
And never know I'm there  
Never even know I'm there.  
—**_**"Mr. Cellophane" from the musical**_** Chicago**_

Clark Kent stood in the back of the elevator, his tall frame mashed uncomfortably against the back of the car as more and more people crowded in until there was no more standing room available. On the other side of this group of _Daily Planet_ workers stood Lois Lane, reporter extraordinaire. He pushed up his glasses to look at her better, not that he really needed them, but this sort of reflex action made his impeccably crafted disguise as a bumbling wallflower all the more believable. It was in these kinds of minute details, he believed, that helped make his cover so simple, but effective.

And then she looked over at him, if only for a second. It was like the world stood still. Everyone else dissolved instantly—there was only her. He couldn't help but burst into a large, toothy grin. She always managed to evoke strong reactions from him, ranging from almost uncontrollable lust to anxiety to fear for her safety to jealousy that she'd replaced him with someone who was clearly a human clone of himself, right down to the dark hair, blue eyes, and ability to fly (a plane, in this case). And then there were times when he just was just so happy to see her that all he could do was grin like a little kid on Christmas morning. He waved eagerly at her, only to receive an eye roll and a patronizing wave. At least it was better than a fiery article blasting him for leaving and claiming that the world was better off without him.

The bell to the elevator chimed, and the people standing in front of him poured out like ants out of an ant hill that had just realized that a picnic was going on two feet from the ant mound. He tried to catch her eye again, this time hoping to speak with her, but she just blew by him, strutting off confidently to her desk where she immediately plopped down and picked up the phone. He didn't want to bother her, so he went to his own desk to get some work done. One of the benefits of having super speed and extraordinary vision meant that he was able to complete tasks in seconds that would take hours for the average man. But he wasn't an average man; he was Superman. And though he tried to deny it, it was that side of him, that regal, fantastic, noble, strong, courageous, brave, bold, flashy and awe-inspiring part of him that Lois loved…and after reading that heartbreaking article, he was pretty sure it was love truly in the past tense…and not this meek, mild-mannered, nerdy, clumsy, completely forgettable part of him. So that begs the question, did she truly love him at all if she only cared about one side of him, and not the other?

_That's not her fault. I lead her to believe that Clark Kent and Superman are two totally separate individuals, and so naturally, she can't be blamed for not loving both. It's my fault for not telling her once and for all the truth, _he reasoned. _After all, it was me who told her the truth, and gave up my powers just to be with her. And then I had to save the world from Zod, and most of all, protect her. So I had to erase her mind it was for her own protection. There was no other choice_.

But what about himself? Didn't he deserve to be happy, to be with the one he loved? Why should he have to give up all that was dear to him just so he could protect the world over and over and over again? What was he, some kind of intergalactic maid sent to clean up humanity's mess? Though he'd never admit it vocally, that was a tiny part of why he took that fateful and ultimately useless trip to the remnants of Krypton. His father had made it absolutely clear that there was nothing left, and his father had been the top scientist on the planet, the one who had warned the high council over and over that total annihilation was imminent. But his father had been wrong by saying that he, Kal El, the Last Son of Krypton was, well, the Last Son. Zod had survived, and Jor-El hadn't anticipated that, so was it so irrational to think that he might have been wrong about other things? However, Zod hadn't been on Krypton when it exploded; the megalomaniac general and his cohorts were trapped in the Phantom Zone, so, naturally, he hadn't been killed in the explosion.

Just then Lois got up and out of her seat. Clark stood up too, inadvertently knocking over his chair with am almighty crash. She didn't even turn around, but just kept going to wherever she was headed. The other people who sat around Clark however did notice, snickered slightly, and then went back to work. He supposed they had come to expect similar behavior from him, so it wasn't particularly noteworthy to them when such accidents occurred.

* * *

The next day, he was luckier in that instead of being crammed at the back of the elevator with Lois across from him, he was crammed in the elevator with Lois in front of him. The crowd jostled them around, and she was walking quickly like a mad woman on a mission, meaning, normally, for her at least. Yet he managed to keep up, and this time, lo and behold, he actually was able to talk to her for a few seconds before she cut him off and started rambling in thinly veiled language about how she was upset about Superman returning. It was always awkward, talking about himself like he was two people. It made him feel weird and disjointed, but once again, he knew that this was just one more side effect of trying to live two separate lives in one body. He tried valiantly to explain to Lois why he, or Superman, rather, left without saying goodbye, and action that he'd regretted from the moment he left. But the past was past, and he couldn't reverse it. Well…technically, he probably _could_ reverse time, again…but he wasn't sure he could reverse it five years back. The effort alone would probably kill him, and then he would have left Lois alone again, only this time for good. Either way, he was in a no win situation, a purgatory derived from one very institutive and completely irrational and stupid decision. It was a good thing he hadn't gone to see Bruce yet; he could practically hear the Dark Night gloating and berating him for the 'complete and utter illogical fallacy' of his decision.

And then Lois just said goodbye and left, as though she were simply just talking to the mirror, and had psyched herself up enough to leave. Passersby who might have caught snippets of their 'conversation' probably wondered why Clark was even there at all. It's not like Lois really allowed him very much time to say anything…not that she usually did, anyway.

* * *

When Clark Kent returned to work after the New Krypton incident, it was like a bomb had gone off in the _Daily Planet_. Construction workers were practically crawling over every inch of it, repairing everything from a cracked foundation to the broken glass doors in Perry's office. The tall reporter once again got into the elevator, and no one said a word, except for the few who were chatting on their cell phones. He went to his work desk, which was covered up by two large tool boxes belonging to the construction workers who were fixing the flat screen TV that used to be attached to the column next to Clark's desk.

"E-excuse me, but um, would it be ok if I moved these?" he asked quietly.

The workmen didn't turn around from their work.

"Um, guys? I'm sorry, but I really need to use my desk, and if it's ok, I'd like to move your tool boxes so that I can, you know, work."

Still no response. It was only then that Clark noticed that both construction workers had their respective iPod's plugged in, and were obviously too engrossed in their music to notice anything else. One of them climbed down from his ladder, and it was only then that he noticed the tall man standing nervously next to the desk.

"We'll get to accounting as soon as we can," the man in the construction hat and dark blue jump suit said irritably.

"I um, I'm not with accounting. This is my desk, and I was wondering if it's ok with you if I move your tool boxes so that I can get to work."

"Uh, yeah, sure. We'll be done in a sec, and then we'll be out of your way, Mr….uh…"

"Kent."

"Right, Mr. Kent. Can you just hang out until we're done?"

"Um…I …yeah, ok."

"Great."

The man nodded brusquely, and pulled out a screwdriver from his toolbox and climbed back up his ladder to return to work. Having nothing else that he could do at the moment, Clark ambled over to Jimmy's desk to see what the young photographer was doing. Jimmy seemed to be having trouble with his digital camera.

"Damn power surge!" he exclaimed in a very obviously disgruntled manner.

"Hey Jimmy, what's going on?"

The red head looked up, and instantly stood on his feet.

"Mr. Kent! Good to see you again! Where did you go? Were you trapped in the earthquake? Man, that was a crazy day! I was here, with the Chief you know, 'cuz you and Richard had left and somebody had to alert the Chief to what was going on, since he was really worried about Lois, not that he'd ever say it, so I took him the fax with the map coordinates on it, and then all of the sudden, there was all this rumbling, and then all the buildings around us, their windows blew out, and then the ones here in the _Planet_ shattered too, and then everything really started getting weird, so I grabbed my trusty camera, and raced outside for some great pics for the front page since my other Superman pics sucked, and then I got the BEST shot ever of Superman descending to the ground carrying the globe. It was freaking awesome, you should have been there…it was like something out of Greek mythology, like Pegasus or something."

"Pegasus was a winged horse, Jimmy. I think you're thinking of Atlas, who supposedly holds the world on his shoulders as it spins."

Jimmy just started at him blankly for a moment.

"Yeah right, basically what I said. Anyway, so I tried to upload those pics, but since my computer crashed after the blackout, I have to reinstall all my photograph editing software, and it's taking forever, and now for some reason it won't recognize my camera."

"OLSEN!" Perry barked from across the bull pen.

"Sorry Mr. Kent, I've gotta go, but I'll be back later. You want to meet for beers later?"

"Uh, sure…" Clark answered, but Jimmy was already in the editor-in-chief's office.

He awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets, and glanced over at his still toolbox covered desk. He could see that the workers were obviously finished, but they were casually leaning against the pillar, chatting about the great new band that one of them had found on myspace. Just then, the bespectacled reporter felt something brush past him. He knew instantly from the smell of honey and milk shampoo that it was Lois.

"Hey, Lois," he said genially.

"Huh? What?" she muttered, looking around before she saw Clark standing in front of her. "Oh, hey, Smallville. What's up? I didn't even see you standing there."

"Oh, um, nothing, I'm just waiting for my desk to be cleared off before I can use it."

"What's on it that you can't clear it off yourself?" she asked distractedly as she sat down to Jimmy's computer and logged on.

"I um, I think Jimmy's been having problems with his camera, so if you're looking for pictures, I don't know if you can access them yet."

An error message popped up on the screen.

"Jimmy!" she belted. "What's wrong with your computer?"

When the photographer didn't answer, Clark cleared his throat delicately, and then said a little louder this time, "I think the blackout messed up his software."

"Yeah, I figured that out already, but thanks anyway."

She got up and went back to her desk, but after groping around, she once again couldn't find her stapler.

"Clark, can I use you stapler again?"

"Yeah, sure!"

He went over to his desk to grab it, and the construction worker that he talked to earlier saw him.

"I said we'd be done in a sec, but I didn't really mean a second, alright man? Cut us some slack. We'll be out of your way soon enough."

"I, um, just need my stapler," Clark muttered, not that it mattered, because the two workers were back in deep conversation, this time debating who was the best rapper today.

"Here you go, Lois."

He stuck out his stapler for her to take, but it seemed that in the meantime, she'd grown impatient and swiped one from Jimmy.

"What? You'd say something?" she asked blithely.

"Uh, no, no I didn't."

"Hmm. Ok. Listen Smallville, it was nice talking to you, but I've got to go pick up Jason from school."

"Oh, ok."

He tried not to hide his disappointment, but wasn't very successful.

"Are you ok, Kent? You look sick."

"It's, um, I had the flu a few days ago…"

"That sucks. Maybe you should take some time off."

"I did. I was gone for a week."

"Oh? I didn't notice. Well, I've gotta rush. See ya later, ok?"

"Ok."

But she was already in the line for the elevator. He watched her go, hands still stuck in his pockets, his heart straining to gain the courage to go to her. But he just stayed put, a stationary figure in the bustling bullpen as people walked right on by, or maneuvered around him, like he was just a part of the furniture.

"Goodbye, Lois," he said quietly.


End file.
